


carilloneur

by prowlish



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-16
Updated: 2016-10-16
Packaged: 2018-08-22 17:35:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8294269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prowlish/pseuds/prowlish
Summary: What happens when it's all too much?





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was a prompt from Terry from ages ago. Hope it's a good response! It goes so well with my love for writing self-soothe fics.
> 
> Also written pretty quickly and only looked over a little bit; trying to jump-start my brain after finishing a project.

The first time Genji found himself in the icy grip of his mind’s cruellest tricks in Zenyatta’s presence -- it was sadly no different, except that later he would feel a measure of shame in the aftermath.

 

But that would be later; in the moment, as always, nothing of his surroundings mattered or registered. When this choking, smothering feeling of  _ it’s all too much _ descended, everything became muted under his thundering heart and racing breaths. The technology encasing him could scarcely keep up -- the vents on his suit made sick, straining noises. His heart thudded along as though trying to escape his chest, armor and all, and unhelpfully, his BPM was flashing dully in the corner of his vision.

 

He was suffocating.

 

Forgetting about the manual commands to withdraw his visor, Genji tugged desperately at the seams on his helmet, his breathing all the more labored, pushing hyperventilation at this point. His world had narrowed down to this, trying to free himself so he could  _ breathe _ and he was wholly unprepared to feel even the gentlest touch on his arm.

 

Genji yelped, whirling around, a fist automatically thrown out and --  _ clank! _

 

The jolt of striking metal sent a shock through him, momentarily breaking the vicious churning of his thoughts -- at least long enough for him to remember how to retract his visor and mouthguard. 

 

He took deep breaths of air. Cold air, stinging his lungs, but it somehow felt  _ more _ than the filtered product his vents provided him with. Felt  _ real. _

 

Feeling tingled back into limbs he hadn’t realized felt numb. Genji could  _ feel _ self coming back, like being slowly poured back into his body in little drops. His gaze focused and he finally  _ saw _ \-- and what he saw was Zenyatta, lying on the thin layer of snow, a small dent in his plating.

 

His eyes widened. “Master!” he cried out, disconsolate, instantly crouching next to Zenyatta. Here was the shame, now -- and the guilt. “I am sorry, master, forgive me.”

 

But Zenyatta was sitting upright, regarding Genji with his head tilted ever so slightly. “Do not worry, Genji,” he said. “That was -- foolish of me. I apologize.”

 

Genji shook his head, looking away. Where did Zenyatta get all of this patience and good will? Certainly he was not worthy of that!

 

“Genji,” Zenyatta said again, but Genji did not look. “May I touch you?” 

 

Not trusting himself with words, Genji slowly nodded his head. He closed his eyes as he felt Zenyatta’s hand brush his cheek. The cold air made the metal of his hand even colder against Genji’s skin, but it was nice. A soothing touch against the hot brand of his mind. 

 

He was shaky, still; his mind was calmer, but his thoughts still felt sharp and jagged. But this -- this was better.

 

After another moment, Zenyatta slowly folded his arms around Genji, holding him. Genji offered no resistance, leaning into Zenyatta’s arms and allowing himself to be cradled against the omnic’s narrow chest. 

 

Genji was trembling, and he didn’t realize it until Zenyatta stroked the back of his helmet and down his back. “You’re okay,” he said softly -- and hearing it from Zenyatta, Genji almost believed it. He peered up from the corner of his eye, his own fingers tracing guiltily over the dent in Zenyatta’s jaw. To his surprise, Zenyatta laughed. “I am okay, too.”

 

Letting out a shuddering sigh, Genji continued in his silence, but he hid his face against Zenyatta’s neck. Guilt and shame still hung on him like a weight, but he was not able to deny himself this comfort.

 

One by one, the orbs that gently floated around Zenyatta -- Genji supposed that for now, he was within their orbit as well -- began to chime. One, then two together. Three. Two. Three. One. They blinked softly along with it, but that hardly mattered. Genji had shut his eyes again. 

Everything had slipped away again, but this time it was fine -- this time it was just Zenyatta, and the combined coolness and warmth of his touch, and the softly chiming orbs floating around them. It was a slowing of consciousness -- precisely what he needed, after the hurtling of his mind and heart before. Slowly, his breathing matched their slow, soothing tempo. He wasn’t dozing, exactly; he was awake, but he was only thinking of the soft tones and the gentle touch, and letting his being become full with only those simple sensations.

 

Was this the tranquility that Zenyatta spoke of so often? It had to be.

 

Then yes, Zenyatta  _ was _ right. He was okay. If just for these moments -- he was okay.

 

**Author's Note:**

> visit me on [@prowlish](https://twitter.com/prowlish) on twitter!! :)


End file.
